


My teeth, my eyes, my soul for you

by coolest



Series: ashes to ashes, dust to dust verse [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolest/pseuds/coolest
Summary: They should've left their love in Olympus to burn. They should've let each other go in that life time, where everything went wrong the first time, and found new people to love forever instead of each other.





	My teeth, my eyes, my soul for you

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since i've added to this verse. Forgive me for being lazy and for this being so angsty, even i was out here breaking my own heart. 
> 
> Title Credits: A line from a poem by Inkskinned
> 
> 1D obviously doesn't belong to me. 
> 
> I'm sorry that this is so sad, i love writing shit you cry about lol 
> 
> Also, TRIGGER WARNINGS for mentions of drugs, violence, death. I can't remember if there is any more but if you find one please, please (!!!), tell me in the comments below because i don't want to hurt anyone at all. 
> 
> (Mount Kimbie, Auditions and Delta helped me whilst writing this. Thank you MK) 
> 
> Anyway, if you like, please kudos and comment it means so much to me

It’s 4 am when Harry comes back home- bruised and bloody. 

Outside, it’s still pitch black and the only light inside this fucking room is the lamp next to him. He hasn’t slept at all- worry clawing at his heart and eating away at every rational thought he’s had. 

Harry walks and stops in front of him on the couch, waits and waits for Louis to look up at him but he never does. He just sits there, lips pinched, eyebrows creased with worry, with his head resting in the palm of his hand. 

After a while with no attention directed at him Harry leaves. Louis listens to the sound of him dragging his fit into their room. He’s been sitting here like a fool all night waiting for a man who doesn’t love him enough to stop and he’s so tired. 

The minute he hears the sound of the door shut behind Harry, he bursts into tears. 

 

 

 

 

 

They don’t talk about it. 

It’s 4:30 am when Louis stands up from where he’s sitting, wipes his tears and opens the door to their bedroom. He lets Harry press him against the door immediately, lets Harry dig his fingers into the soft skin of his hips, lets Harry fuck him raw and hard like he’s the one who left him like this- bruised and bloody and angry. 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re doing it again-

That thing they do when they don’t communicate like normal couples would but scream and fight instead. 

Like always, Louis’ wondering how much longer he can take of this. He’s only one boy, in one body, with one heart and things like this never stop hurting.

On the other side of this bathroom door, Harry is yelling for him- punching cracks into the wood- and all Louis wants right now is for the world to swallow him whole, make him forget, take him back to him mom. 

He doesn’t want to be here anymore.  
(And he knows he says this all the time when things between them get too tough to handle. He knows that by the end of today, after he’s wrapped up Harry’s hands and cleaned the cut on his brow, he’ll be in love again and none of this would’ve happened because he’s so weak.)

“For fucks sake Louis!” Harry shouts, voice cracking around the edges. “Let me in!” 

Louis wipes the tears streaming down his face and tries to hold back a sob whilst trying to remember how they got here, why they’re even fighting. It’s always like this though. One thing happens between them and then the rest of world falls apart around them.

There’s an ache in his chest that he still can’t find a name for. He prays it goes away. 

On the other side of the door, Harry quietens. All movements from Harry’s side goes still and Louis can hear people outside starting their days properly, leaving their homes. 

All is silent for what seems like forever before that silence is interrupted by the sound of Harry knocking softly on the door. “Louis,” he begs, “baby. I’m sorry. Let me in. I love you so much. I just want to hold you.” 

 

 

 

 

 

He’s weak. That’s why he unlocks the bathroom door for him.

Harry crashes into him, fists clenched at his sides, muttering “sorry” under his breathe like a prayer. 

Louis holds him close to his chest, fingers threading through Harry’s curls. They stand at the foot of their bed, saying nothing until it becomes too much.

“I asked you so nicely Harry.” Louis says with a shaky voice, grip tightening. “I asked you and you promised me and now my feelings are so hurt.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so-“ 

“You’re not is the problem.” Louis cuts him off, voice raising in volume. He pushes Harry off of him and watches him fall back onto their bed. “You take advantage of my love everytime because you know I’ll forgive you, I always do, and that’s not fair Harry, it’s not. “

Harry’s eyes darken. “Don’t you dare fucking tell me I take advantage-“

“Shut up!” Louis screams, cutting him off once again. He closes his eyes and sees fire. “I’m not done talking, am i? You can’t just fucking apologize every time you fuck up! You can’t just expect everything to be okay every time or get shocked if I get mad. No! It’s not fair and it hurts me and I sit here, in our home, waiting for you, hoping to god you’re not dead or lying in a ditch somewhere because I love you so much Harry and sometimes I feel like you don’t love me enough.” 

“Louis.” Harry grits out, eyes red rimmed making the green stand out even more vividly than usual. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Louis knows he’s about to blow up, can feel the tension slice at his skin-eat at him, bit by bit. Still, he continues because he never knows when to stop, never knows how to when he’s angry enough. 

They glare at each other from opposite ends of the room, jaws locked. Harry’s sitting with his legs spread, looking beautiful as ever with dried blood on his lip. His face is red and Louis can almost see the anger struggling to contain itself within him. He leans forward and rests his elbows on each knee, staring up at Louis a black eye and bruised knuckles. 

“Sometimes, you’re so good. You listen to me, you love me just right and then in a blink of an eye you’re gone. How do you do that?” Louis asks, chewing on his bottom lip. “How are you so good then suddenly so bad?” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I want you to tell me that you’re never going to do this again. I want you to tell me you love me enough not to fall off the fucking wagon like you do every two months just as things are going well between us. I’ve loved you for so long Harry, I’ll love you forever I think, but I need you to stay off the streets because I worry myself to death everytime you go throwing your fists at every livng being in this city and I don’t know how much longer I can do this for.” 

Harry continues to say absolutely nothing. He runs a hand over his face, wincing when he brushes past his busted lip. He never takes his eyes off Louis. He stares up at him with jade eyes and huffs loudly, jaw clenching. 

Louis stares at him right back, nose tingling. He doesn’t even bother wiping his tears. He wishes he could leave him- flee New York and go somewhere nice, somewhere peaceful, somewhere like home with his mom and the mountains and his sisters and boys with clean fists, brown eyes and straight hair. Boys who don’t look like Harry, feel like Harry, fuck like Harry. 

Harry breaks eye contact to look at his feet. There’s a sly smile on his face as he shakes his head and “Fuck you.” He spits out. “You don’t know shit.” 

“I don’t know shit?” Louis laughs maniacally, eyes wide. “Me? 5 years with you and I don’t know fucking shit?” 

“You don’t. You think you do but you don’t. You don’t know shit about what’s going on inside my head because I don’t either and I don’t know how to fix this when I don’t even know where to start myself.” Harry tells him, looking at his knuckles, lips turned down in a frown. “All you fucking do is complain about all the wrong things I’m doing and you say nothing when I’m doing well, when I’ve still got my head screwed on right.”

“You know that’s not true Harry.” 

“But it is!” It’s Harry’s time to shout now. He’s crying openly, tears-made-of-lava streaming down his face. “You’re meant to love me all the time and I know I fuck up, I know I do, but my mother died Louis! She died right next to me from heroin, of all things, and I was 16 and my dad left me on the streets and my sister is gone and I’m alone with myself all the time, whether you’re with me or not. I’m hurting all the time and your constant fucking complaining drives me up the walls because you never appreciate me when I’m trying. And I try all the time Louis, I do but sometimes all the shit in my head gets to me.” He stops talking for a second and wipes the tears off his face. “I fuck up but I won’t let you sit here and belittle my love for you. You can’t tell me I don’t love you enough because you know damn well you’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this, the only person I’ll ever love like this. I love you so much, I feel it everywhere, all around me, all the time.”

Sometimes, it feels like, maybe, in this lifetime, they would’ve been good without each other- better off. Louis would’ve still been in Oregon, surrounded by stars and fresh air. He’d find a boy with brown eyes, maybe blue, and blonde hair and fall in love with him just enough to forget that his heart calls out for someone he’s never met- won’t ever meet. And Harry? Harry would be in New York, like this, sitting in front someone who loves him too much- but who he doesn’t love like he’s loved Louis all this time- all bloody and bruised, with anger seeping through his pores.

(God, Louis loves him so much.)

They’re both crying now and Louis can’t bring himself to move any closer to Harry, who’s got his head in his hands. Behind them, the sun shines brightly into their bedroom. He wonders how long Charlotte’s been awake, if she’s even awake, and what she thinks of him- loving a broken man, trying to put him back together, failing every time and still loving him. 

(“In this story,” he remembers telling her, “We’re both the villians.”) 

 

 

 

 

 

Millions of lives ago, they were Ares and Aphrodite- two Gods bound to eachother by a love that’s found them in every lifetime including the one they were living in. 

That was the first lifetime where things went wrong. 

They should’ve left their love in Olympus to burn. They should’ve let each other go in that life time, where everything went wrong the first time, and found new people to love forever but they didn’t and now they’re here, in these new bodies, in this new city, with different voices and different but eyes  
that have never changed no matter who they were. 

 

 

 

 

 

The problem; 

They’re still in love, still setting each other on fire-one of them still too brave and the other still too angry.


End file.
